


Soft Spot

by HesTheKingOfSomewhere



Category: Newsies (1992), Newsies - All Media Types, Newsies!: the Musical - Fierstein/Menken
Genre: Date Rape Drug/Roofies, Friendship, Gen, Modern Era, Soft!Spot, They're cops, aromantic spot fyi, spot gets a cat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-06
Updated: 2019-06-06
Packaged: 2020-04-11 11:35:10
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,398
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19108843
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HesTheKingOfSomewhere/pseuds/HesTheKingOfSomewhere
Summary: Most people either thought Spot was a complete asshole who didn't care about anything in the world or an asshole who hated everyone and everything in it. It wasn't Spot's fault he wasn't good with people, most people just weren't good with Spot.





	Soft Spot

**Author's Note:**

> yall asked for a spot thats not mean as hell and i did my best to deliver.

As cliché as it was, Spot did enjoy things. He liked swimming, sunsets of the Hudson, churros, and people who weren’t entirely stupid. Of course, Spot would never let anyone know that he liked these things, after all, he had a reputation to protect. So when Spot walked past a mewling kitten on the street, he almost didn’t stop. In fact, he probably wouldn’t have if the kitten hadn’t started following him.

“What do you want?” he asked the little grey thing, and it mewed in response. Spot looked around for any witnesses before crouching down to the kitten. The cat did not seem frightened of him at all, if anything, it seemed curious, as if it wanted to know if it was talking to a larger, hairless cat. Spot patted his pockets for anything edible and came up with a cheese string. He broke off a piece and gave it to the kitten, who accepted it gratefully. As it ate, Spot looked for a collar and found nothing.  _ Where did this little guy come from _ ? With his moral duty done, Spot left the cat to eat and continued on his way home.

By the time Spot reached his apartment, the kitten had somehow managed to catch up with him, and had been following a few feet behind Spot for quite a while.

“You’re a good little stalker, aren’t you?” he laughed. The kitten just looked at him with the biggest amber eyes Spot had ever seen.

“Ah fuck it.” Spot picked up the kitten and walked inside.

______________________________________________________________________________

 

“Wait, Spot, who’s this?” Race asked at the grey kitten sniffing at his legs as he took off his shoes. Spot barely looked up.

“Oh, that’s my dumbass.”

“I thought  _ I  _ was your dumbass!” Race feigned being offended but scratched the cat’s ear.

“Yes, but you don’t keep trying to eat my goddamn cactus.”

“What’s his name?” Race picked up the kitten and carried him over to sit beside Spot on the couch. As soon as he sat down, the cat jumped into Spot’s lap.

“He doesn’t have one. I put ads out in case he’s just lost.”

“Can I name him then?” Despite the kitten”s clear preference for Spot, he was still watching Race carefully.

“No, you’ll name him something stupid. Like Stephen.”

“Stephens a great name! But you’re right, he’s not a Stephen…” Race looked at the cat in much the same way the cat looked at him. He picked the cat back up from Spot’s lap and stared the kitten down, the two of them going face to face.

“What is your name?” Race asked the cat. Spot couldn’t help but smile as he watched his friend interrogate the grey blob. Spot wasn’t sure how he had come to like him so much, but there was something natural about their friendship- if you could call it that. Really, they took care of each other, Spot gave him food and he reminded Spot that the world wasn’t all bad. It was a good deal. A warmth settled over Spot as he set out plates for the three of them at the table.

“You let Mr. Mittens eat at the table?” Race asked when he saw the setup.

“Of course, I’m not a fucking monster.” Spot distributed the food; pasta for the humans, wet cat food for the grey blob. “Also, his name is not going to be Mr. Mittens.”

The two of them watched as the cat sniffed his own plate and then leaned towards Spot’s.

“No, you’re eating the cat food. You can’t have human food every night.” Spot pushed the cat’s head back towards the proper plate and sighed. “He thinks he’s in charge here,” Spot leaned towards the kitten. “you would never get away with that kind of insubordination at the precinct.”

“Aw, does that make you the captain of your apartment?” Race asked mockingly. Spot took it in stride.

“You bet your ass it does.” He gave Race a crooked smile. “And he’s the dumbass detective who doesn’t know how to do two digits by two digit multiplication.”

“Hey- that was one time!”

______________________________________________________________________________

 

Spot hated bars, but Race loved them, so that was how they spent their Friday night. The general formula was girls coming up to Spot because he looked cool and closed off, and then they were deflected to Race because he was funny and actually showed interest in them. Spot wasn’t sure why he kept agreeing to go out, but there he was, sitting at the corner table of whatever overpriced bar Race had chosen.

“Whiskey sour for you, and a rum and coke for me.” Race plopped the drinks onto the table.

“Great, thanks.”

“How’s the little detective?” The nickname twitched Spot’s mouth into a smile. That very day his kitten had gotten his face stuck in a takeout box and wandered around the apartment for 20 minutes before Spot helped him.

“Getting stupider by the minute. By my calculations, he’ll run out of brain cells by next week.” Race laughed at that, and for a moment, Spot was actually having a good time.

And then the first harpy descended.

“Is this seat taken?” The whiny voice dropped the smile off of Spot’s face. He didn’t look up, but he knew that the question was directed at him, though Race answered.

“It is, actually. We’re waiting on some friends.” Race’s answer surprised Spot, he didn’t often say no to girls.

“Who else is coming?” Spot asked after a moment. Race grinned from his drink.

“No one. I just got the impression you didn’t want her hanging around.” A smile from Spot confirmed his hunch. “Is she allowed to hang around?” Race nodded to a woman standing with some friends at the bar.

“If you want. But how do you know she’ll come over here?”

“We’ve made eye contact 5 times over the last 10 minutes, I’d give her another 2 before they all come over.” Race calculated. Spot was mildly impressed with Race’s math when exactly 120 seconds later the whole gaggle of women appeared. Spot wasn’t paying attention when they introduced themselves but moved over when more space was needed.

“Are you girls from around here?” Race asked politely. They weren’t, they were just staying in Brooklyn for the wedding of one of their old uni friends. Spot stayed silent throughout all the small talk, occasionally nodding his head when required. He wasn’t a total monster though, he did learn their names. Liana, Ellie, Hannah, and Claire, in descending order of hair shade. He figured Race would end up going home with Ellie, she seemed Race’s type.

“So, what do you do?” Liana asked him. Spot wasn’t interested but he played nice for Race’s sake.

“I’m a cop, we work together.” He nodded at Race and took a sip of his almost-finished drink. “You?”

“Oh, I’m just a stay-at-home mom. This is actually my first time away since my daughter was born.”

“Oh, cool.” Spot wanted to say more but he didn’t know enough about kids to keep talking. Fortunately, their group became larger and Spot was no longer obligated to socialize. A few ex-frat bros had rolled up and joined their conversations. They were definitely Spot’s least favourite type: entitled assholes with no respect for anyone but their fathers, who got a top job at some ad agency after 4 years of partying at an overpriced ivy league. He was overly familiar with the breed; some of them could be fun; especially when the alternate meaning of “father” is explored, however, these men were pungently heterosexual. He did not do them the courtesy of learning their names. Once the group had expanded, Spot allowed himself to simply observe the people around him. Ellie was still talking to Race, while Hannah tried to involve herself in their conversation. That left Liana and Claire to talk to the frat bros, Liana seemed unused to that kind of attention but Claire was very clearly over it. The boys just talked in circles, trying to one-up each other, but meaning absolutely nothing. Spot began to wonder why he was even there.

People always asked Spot what his “type” was, he always figured it was a ploy to find out who he was as a person. Quite frankly, he didn’t really have a “type”, there were people, and then there were hot people. And as for relationships, his “type” did not exist, if he wanted sex he went to the hot people and if he wanted companionship he went to Race. Some people thought that made him an asshole, but Spot just didn’t see the need for relationships, why buy the cow when you can get the friendship for free?

“I’m going for a smoke if anyone wants to join me.” Race announced. The girls all jumped at the chance to leave the frat boys behind and followed Race outside. Part of Spot would always be a bit jealous of how easily popular and social Race was, but Spot also knew that they had a good friendship that didn’t rely on Spot’s comfort in social situations. The guys slipped into the booth.

“So, let me guess… You’re in love with that Race guy?” Spot whipped his head towards the frat boy who had just spoken.

“No, we’re just friends.” Spot realized that his answer, although true, was less than convincing, but he didn’t really care.

“But you wouldn’t mind if we took home those girls instead of having them waste their time with you, right?” The frat bro punctuated his question with a slap on Spot’s shoulder. Spot shrugged the hand off in time to notice the frat guy across from him slip something small back into his pocket.

“What did you put in her drink?” Spot asked staring at Liana’s previously not fizzing drink. The guy across from him froze.

“What are you talking about, dude? I didn’t see anything, besides, what do you care?” The frat guy once again tried to redirect Spot’s attention. Despite the man beside him’s best efforts to distract him, Spot was certain of what he saw.

“Did you fucking roofie her?” Spot could feel his heart pounding, and he stood up. Once again, the frat bro did nothing but stand there and look guilty. Sure, he wasn’t particularly fond of Liana, but she was a  _ person _ and beyond that a  _ mother. _

“Woah, cool it, dude.” The frat boy beside him was clearly not cooling it. “It’s not like-”

“Is there a problem here?” Spot thanked whatever gods there were that he had been loud enough to be overheard before the situation escalated. The two guys sitting one table over had stood up and come to Spot’s back up, he was suddenly very thankful Race had chosen this bar. With the frat bros outnumbered, Spot found a chance to reach for his wallet.

“Detective Spot Conlon, NYPD, nice to meet you guys. These are my friends, Officer Mush, and-” Before Spot could finish his line, the frat guys bolted towards the door. “Ah, fuck”

The first frat guy ran straight into Mush’s arms, but the second evaded the cop and ran towards the door. Now, Spot had short legs, but something about taking down people that were a full head taller than him had a tendency to increase his speed. He figured it was spite. Whatever it was, it worked.

______________________________________________________________________________

“Man, imagine being stupid enough to try and roofie a chick in a cop bar- in front of a cop.” Race chuckled once they got back to Spot’s apartment. Not only did the guys have Rohypnol, but they were also carrying a dime bag of coke and enough weed to knock Race on his ass, and meant Spot had to spend more time at the precinct on his day off than he would have liked. Detective- ah fuck it, Race managed to name him- Detective’s reaction to Spot and Race’s arrival made it worth it though, running like a bullet into Spot’s legs. And people say cats don’t miss you.

“So, what happened to that girl…” Spot knew her name was Ellie, but Race didn’t need to know that.

“Ellie? They all had to get up early, so…” Race shrugged. “Plus, I mean, almost getting roofied puts an end to your evening pretty quickly.”

“Fucking assholes…” Spot felt a lump in his throat as he hung up his coat. He had known too many assholes like the frat boys in his life, and too many of them had gotten away with their bullshit. Race collapsed onto Spot’s couch, and Detective jumped onto his chest. He watched Spot carefully but listened to Detective’s need for attention.

“Can I stay here tonight? My apartment is too far away and I’m a lazy bitch.”

“Of course, man.” Spot looked at his living room and regretted that the only place to sit was the couch, which Race and Detective were completely occupying. He could have pulled up a kitchen chair, but he felt that that would have been  _ incredibly _ more awkward than asking Race to move or just sitting on top of his friend.

“Wanna watch a movie or something?” Spot suggested, approaching Race’s claim on the sofa. “Here.” Spot motioned for Race to sit up. He complied and let Spot in, only to place his head on Spot’s lap once he had settled. Spot was not expecting to have his friends head in his lap, but he accepted it as what it was: perfect. They spent the rest of the evening watching some superhero movie that Spot was only half paying attention to. The other half of his attention was being paid to the boy whose hair he was running his fingers through and the little grey kitten that was napping on the aforementioned boy’s stomach.

______________________________________________________________________________

  
He woke up in a Race-and-Detective sandwich. At some point during the night, they had migrated to bed. Spot wasn’t sure how he had gotten there, whether Race had carried him or if he had walked himself, but he was laying on top of Race’s chest and he could feel Detective on his back. He could hear Race’s heavy breathing, the sound of his best friend still asleep. Spot decided it was time to go back to sleep, safe and comfortable with his friends. _No,_ he thought, _my family._


End file.
